Eleanor K. (emungere) wrote in yaoi_challenge,

Saiyuki (Sanzo/Hakkai)

Title: True Things
Author: Eleanor K.
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Much thanks to mistressrenet for the beta and sffan for listening to me whine. Request: Sanzo=Hakkai: A fight devolves into sex. Preferably the kind that's fierce and angry and up-against-the-wall, clothes still mostly on and kisses hard enough to bruise. Oh, and hot. Requested by wordsofastory.

..___..

Sanzo looks out the window. Hakkai has just finished sweeping and leans against his broom. In a few minutes, the wind will pick up, and leaves will rain from the gingko tree in the center of the courtyard. Sanzo will have to go down and tell him to start over again.

Sanzo remembers sweeping, remember leaning on his broom, remembers his master's smile and the rain of leaves. He also remembers getting angry at having all his work so easily undone.

Hakkai doesn't get angry.

If Sanzo doesn't go down and tell him to keep sweeping, he will lean there against his broom until he is called to eat. He will eat, and he will help with the dishes, and he will go to his room.

If Sanzo does go down, Hakkai will sweep the courtyard again. No anger, no resentment, no argument. Hakkai may as well be the broom he is leaning on.

Sanzo tightens his mouth and gets up, weighing his papers down with a vase against the coming wind. The vase is full of flowers Goku and Hakkai picked yesterday from the temple garden. Hakkai is endlessly patient with Goku's yapping and demands for food. Hakkai is endlessly patient with everyone but himself.

Suddenly impatient, Sanzo takes the stairs two at a time. He spits a curse at some fat old monk who gets in his way and is gone before the man can apologize.

He bursts into the open air of the courtyard just in time for the wind to catch his robes. They whip around him, and the leaves swirl down in a storm. The sky to the west is dark with rain.

"Didn't I tell you to sweep the goddamn courtyard?" Sanzo calls over the wind.

Hakkai looks at him, at the newly fallen leaves, and there is not so much as a flash of feeling in his eyes. He nods and takes up the broom again. His strokes are steady and precise. He will not pause until he's finished.

Ten minutes later, Sanzo watches the storm break. He shuts his window and stares through the streaked glass as the rain soaks Hakkai to the skin; dark hair plastered against his skull and hiding his eyes, loose clothes hanging heavily on his frame.

Hakkai goes on sweeping. Sanzo wants to shoot something.

***

"Sanzo?"

"What do you want, monkey?"

Goku looks at him, head tilted. "Is he going to be out there all night?"

Sanzo glances out the window and back to Goku. "Are you done eating?"

"Yeah, but--"

"No buts. Go to bed."

With Goku gone, Sanzo sits by the window and picks at the remains of his own dinner.

Hakkai is still sweeping. Well, not so much sweeping now as picking leaves from gravel by hand. The broom can't do much in this wet.

It's hard enough to sweep up the day after it rains. Everything is sodden and sticky; the leaves tear at a touch; the broom, if you have left it out all night, is heavy with water. Most of the time, his master kept him inside after it rained. Claimed he needed someone to make tea or read to him.

Goddamn fucking rain.

There is a knock at his door, and he looks down to see that Hakkai is now absent from the courtyard.

"Come in."

Hakkai opens the door, takes two steps in and stops. He opens his mouth.

"What?" Sanzo snaps, before Hakkai can say anything. "Don't just stand there dripping on my fucking floor."

"I've come to ask a favor."

"You really think you deserve favors?"

"No. But it's not for me. Gojyo will be worried."

"You want me to tell him what happened."

Hakkai nods. Water runs in a steady stream from the ends of his ragged hair, down his face, off the tip of his nose.

Sanzo wants to shoot him.

"Fine. I'll go tomorrow." He watches Hakkai drip. "Are you stupid? Don't just stand there. Go put some dry clothes on, idiot."

Hakkai is clearly as surprised to hear that last part as Sanzo is to hear himself say it.

Sanzo nearly tells him to wipe up the puddle on the floor before he goes, except that he would.

***

The next night, Hakkai is waiting for him when Sanzo gets back. He's standing almost five feet from the temple doors, the closest he's been to the outside world since he got here.

The sky above is clear, violet fading into black. The stars are sharp, and there is no moon. Hakkai is watching Goku, and Goku is watching the sky. Goku's eyes gravitate to Sanzo as he comes nearer.

"Hey, Sanzo! Did you talk to him? What'd he say? Did you bring me any food?"

Sanzo throws him a bag of meat buns and a look that tells him to makes himself scarce. Disturbingly, he picks up on it and vanishes immediately. Sanzo wonders when the monkey got so perceptive.

Hakkai is now looking at the ground. His voice is quiet as he repeats Goku's question.

"Did you talk to him?"

Sanzo walks past him and shoves the door to the courtyard open. Hakkai follows him silently up to his room and stands just inside the door while Sanzo kicks his sandals off.

Sanzo sits at his desk and lifts the vase aside, shuffling through papers. Almost five full minutes pass before Hakkai gives in and asks again.

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yes," Sanzo answers, after a moment.

"What did he say?"

"Not much."

Hakkai frowns like he's trying to work something out. His skin creases deeply around his monocle and he rubs at it. Still not used to it, apparently.

"What exactly did you tell him?"

"That Cho Gonou is dead."

Hakkai stares at him.

"I see. And you didn't see fit to tell him that Cho Hakkai is alive?"

"Why would I lie to make that half-breed pervert feel better?"

If Hakkai goes back to sweeping now, Sanzo will shoot him. He watches Hakkai's face and sees the clouds start to gather.

"It's not a lie," Hakkai says.

"No?"

Hakkai smiles very slightly. "You should know I'm alive, if only because I keep your courtyard so clean."

"Are you complaining?"

"I don't think you'd wish to hear my complaints."

"Brilliant deduction."

"I didn't ask for this," Hakkai says. "I expected death. I would've welcomed death."

"Then go slit your throat and stop bothering me." Sanzo bends his head, hand cupped around a cigarette to light it. "Don't worry. I won't go ripping out my eyes if your family comes after me. Oh, wait. I don't have to worry about that, do I?"

He pauses, looking up at Hakkai and taking a drag on his cigarette. It's funny. He can see the storm roll over Hakkai's face as clearly as he could see the coming rain last night.

"Don't bring her into this."

"Don't pretend to be alive when you're fucking a corpse every night in your dreams."

Hakkai knocks the cigarette from Sanzo's hand and drags him to his feet by the front of his robes. His eyes are dark, shadowed from lack of sleep. Sanzo wonders if he was right about the dreams.

"Well," Hakkai says softly. "If we're going to bring family into this." He takes a step forward, forcing Sanzo back. "One of the monks told me what happened. They're quite big on gossip, you know. Tell me, after your master was murdered, what sort of dreams did you have?"

"Don't," Sanzo says. He'll kill whoever it was. He didn't think anyone here even knew.

"Don't?" Hakkai says. "Don't talk about his blood on the floor, don't mention what his body must have looked like, all torn up? I should know, after all." He pauses and meets Sanzo's eyes. "Don't tell you how sorry I am for your loss?" He spits the words out, stalking forward step by step.

"Don't--"

Hakkai's hand closes around his neck. "Don't bring her into this."

Sanzo holds Hakkai's gaze and thinks that someone else--maybe anyone else--would be afraid right now. It only makes him angrier.

"Then stop dragging her around with you like a goddamn pull-toy," he snaps.

Hakkai's hand tightens, and Sanzo goes for his gun, pressing the barrel against Hakkai's forehead. It makes no discernible difference. Possibly, Hakkai's not even aware of it. Or possibly, Hakkai is as lacking in fear as he is.

"You're telling me to let go?" Hakkai laughs softly, breath warm on Sanzo's face. "You? When I find you sulking in your rooms like a school boy with a crush every time it rains?"

Sanzo finds himself thumbing off the safety. Hakkai's eyes are the wet green of broken leaves, and his mouth is twisted into the truest smile Sanzo has ever seen on his face.

"I'm not going to shoot you."

"No?" Hakkai murmurs, backing him up, step by step, until his back hits the wall. "Not even if I ask very nicely?"

"No."

"What if I tell you that he would still be alive if I had been there that night instead of you?" Hakkai whispers.

Sanzo shakes his head automatically, but his hand is shaking too. The gun barrel will leave a mark against Hakkai's forehead. Right between his eyes, to match Sanzo's own.

He's pressing so hard that when Hakkai turns his head, the gun skids across his temple and down over his cheek. Then Hakkai is pressed flush against Sanzo's body, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"You should shoot me. I could tear you apart, you know." Hakkai's voice is quite calm. Almost cheerful. "I used to need a knife, but not anymore. This is my punishment for failing her."

Sanzo grits his teeth and jams the gun up under Hakkai's chin. "She failed you, you idiot. Your sister was a spineless coward. I guess it runs in the family."

Hakkai draws back sharply and stares at him from an inch away, so close his face blurs into the dark of his eyes, the pale of his face, and Sanzo's own countenance reflected in his eyeglass. He's panting softly. Sanzo can see the demon in him. Not the youkai, but the demon that was his all along.

Sanzo's finger wraps around the trigger, but if Hakkai does decide to kill him, he doesn't think he'll be fast enough.

"We could have a race." Hakkai's smile is soft and vague. "I think I could rip your throat out before you pull the trigger. I think I could have even before. It seems I have a talent for this sort of thing. What do you think?"

"I think we'd both lose."

"Or win." Hakkai squeezes, fingertips just barely digging into the soft skin of Sanzo's throat. "Depending on how you look at it."

"You don't want to die."

"Oh? And why is that? Tell me, Sanzo, what do I have to live for?"

"Do you want me to have to tell Gojyo you died twice?"

"What do you care about Gojyo?"

"I don't."

"Then you care about me."

"Don't be stu--"

But then Hakkai lowers his head and licks Sanzo's hand. The gun slips along his jaw, presses against his neck. His tongue is hot and wet and slides easily down Sanzo's thumb and across his wrist.

Sanzo stares at him and feels oddly betrayed. Hakkai can't just say things like that. Or shouldn't be able to. Not in the middle of--of this. And he certainly shouldn't be able to lick Sanzo's fucking hand.

Now he's sucking lightly at the inside of Sanzo's wrist, tongue teasing delicate skin, teeth grazing the knob of his wrist bone. Looking up at Sanzo through a thick fall of untrimmed hair.

Sanzo transfers the gun to his other hand and tosses it onto a table. He grabs a fistful of Hakkai's hair.

"Stop it."

Hakkai shoves him harder against the wall, and Sanzo shoves back, hand twisted in his hair, other hand twisted in the front of his shirt. Knuckles grazing the bare skin just below his collar bone.

"I don't care," Sanzo says, and Hakkai leans in to breathe across his mouth. They hold there, the thud of Sanzo's heart measuring time like the tick-tick of a bomb.

Sanzo jams a knee between Hakkai's legs and flips them around so it's him pressing Hakkai against the wall.

"I don't give a damn about--"

Hakkai bites Sanzo's lower lip, rocks against his leg, and Sanzo can feel how hard he is, feel the outline of his cock rubbing along the length of his thigh. Sanzo shoves a hand down the back of his pants, nails raking over smooth, warm skin. Hakkai moans into his mouth. Sanzo's lip is bleeding. He can taste it.

Apparently, so can Hakkai. His tongue slides across the small wound, tip probing, scraping. It hurts, but Sanzo doesn't care. Hakkai sucks on his lower lip and holds onto his shoulders so tightly that Sanzo thinks he can actually feel the bruises forming.

"Goddammit--" Sanzo says.

Hakkai murmurs, "Blasphemy," and smiles against his mouth and rips his robes straight down the front.

Sanzo has to look and check that he's still wearing the limiters because that--shouldn't be--fuck. Hakkai's hands run up his sides, under his shirt, warm and callused, and Sanzo wonders if the calluses came from wielding a knife because they're in the wrong places to be from sweeping.

"Don't rip the shirt," Sanzo says. "They're expensive." He pulls it off over his head, and Hakkai gets his jeans open and pushed down around his thighs and holds Sanzo in his hand. Just holds. While Sanzo gasps for air and feels his body flush with heat.

He's as hard as Hakkai is. He hadn't realized.

He feels obligated to do something now, but all he can do is stand there with his hand down Hakkai's pants, fingers digging into this curve of his ass and feeling, somehow, as if the hand on his cock is far more threatening than the hand on his throat was. But if he's not afraid of death, he's not going to be afraid of this.

Reaching up deliberately, he weaves his fingers through Hakkai's hair and clenches his fist hard around it. He holds Hakkai's eyes and thrusts into his hand, watches Hakkai's mouth go slack, hears him moan, kisses him and swallows the noises he makes as he jacks Sanzo off.

Sanzo is hard to the point of pain, and his cock is slicking Hakkai's hands with fluid. He reaches between their bodies to cup Hakkai through his pants and scratches his nails up Hakkai's back with his other hand. Hakkai's head slams back against the wall and he bites his lip, but his hand is still steady on Sanzo's cock, still jerking him off as Sanzo pulls at the loose waistband and reaches inside.

Hakkai's cock is hot and hard and ready. Within three strokes, Hakkai arches against him, and then it is also wet and sticky, and Hakkai is staring at him like he's done something incredible.

Hakkai's hand on his cock is still, and Sanzo's hand has stopped moving as well. He can feel Hakkai starting to soften as he stands there, can feel viscous fluid oozing between his fingers and sticking them together. It's almost disgusting, the way these things always are in the aftermath.

Then Hakkai pushes him him a step back and kneels and wraps his lips around Sanzo's cock, and it's impossible to worry about the mess. Sloppy licks, the scrape of teeth just below the head, the slight choke as he tries to take more and fails; Hakkai can't have done this before.

Sanzo doesn't care. Hakkai's frantic licks and sucks, tongue flashing over the head and up and down the shaft, are more than enough to make his knees want to buckle.

Both hands in Hakkai's hair, knees locked, he comes as Hakkai sucks hard and wraps his arms around Sanzo's waist. Hakkai swallows quickly and pulls off, resting his forehead against Sanzo's stomach while the last two jerks of Sanzo's cock catch him across the chest. Swimming through unaccustomed pleasure, Sanzo concentrates on keeping them both upright.

He looks down at Hakkai, white spattered across his skin and in his hair, heavy-lidded, swaying gently on his knees. Sanzo gives up and sinks down beside him.

Hakkai clings to him for a moment and then lets go, if with some reluctance.

"I'll mend your robes," Hakkai says. He looks around vaguely, perhaps intending to start the job now.

"In the morning. Go to sleep."

Obedience is a habit, one Hakkai has been learning for weeks now. "Yes," he says, blinking. "Yes, that..."

Hakkai eases his body to the floor and curls on his side, one hand under his cheek. He closes his eyes.

"I didn't mean here," Sanzo mutters, but it's no good.

He goes to get a wet cloth. He'll have to do all the cleaning up himself, as usual.

-------
..end..
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